


The Mark of Cas

by arigatou_sunshine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Biting, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Marking, Possessive Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:53:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1163263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arigatou_sunshine/pseuds/arigatou_sunshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has a problem with Dean's new mark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mark of Cas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [destielicious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielicious/gifts).



> ((THIS TAKES PLACE AFTER 9X12))
> 
> Okay so I guess in order to read this, just assume Cas was waiting around at the bunker while Sam went off to investigate that hunt in 9x12.
> 
> This fic was summoned into being after I read [this post](http://casfucker.tumblr.com/post/74953047643/ugh-i-need-a-fic-where-cas-is-so-upset-about-the).

When Dean returns to the bunker, there’s a disgruntled angel waiting in his bedroom. Dean drops his duffel bag on the floor, eyeing Castiel up and down and ignoring that stupid little flutter he feels in his heart at the sight of him.

“So do you like, live here now?” Dean snarks.

“Sam called me, he told me the two of you were returning together,” Castiel replies. He looks incredibly irritated. “He also said there was something you needed to show me. On your arm,” he adds.

“Why the fuck are you growling at me, man?” Dean glares. Castiel tosses his hands up in exasperation, and Dean wonders where he learned the gesture from. Probably Sam.

“I don’t know, Dean! Maybe the fact that you _left_ Sam and I? On a bridge and just drove away?” Castiel barks, and yep. He’s definitely picking up some of Sam’s mannerisms.

“You’re the one that stayed, man,” Dean tries. He already knows what Castiel’s answer will be.

“To heal Sam!” Castiel’s expression grows sad very abruptly. “You wouldn’t have let me come anyway.”

“Yeah, I just needed some time, Cas,” Dean says.

“I’m glad you and Sam have sorted out your differences at least,” Castiel says, posture relaxing as he speaks. Dean shakes his head.

“Not exactly. Sammy and I aren’t quite back together, he still wants to see other people,” Dean jokes. Castiel furrows his brows in confusion. “Basically, he wants to be co-workers, but not brothers. He’s even moving his stuff to a room on a farther side of the bunker to get some distance.” Castiel’s expression grows even more confused.

“You _are_ brothers, though. He can’t choose not to be your brother,” Castiel says matter-of-factly. Dean gives him a sad smile.

“There are different degrees of being brothers, Cas. Sam and I were friends, too.”

“So, Sam doesn’t want to be friends anymore,” Castiel says. He looks sad about it. It dawns on Dean that Castiel genuinely cares about his relationship with Sam, and he’s touched.

“It’s okay, Cas. He can’t stay mad at me forever,” Dean offers. He doesn’t know if he believes it, but he doesn’t want to see that despondent look on Castiel’s face anymore. Castiel gives Dean a small smile.

“I hope you’re right. I have faith that you are,” Castiel says. “Now, what is it that happened to your arm? Are you in need of healing?”

“Uh, not exactly,” Dean says. He kind of wants to punch Sam for telling Castiel about this. There’s no way the angel is going to be okay with Dean making a deal with the Father of Murder, if Crowley’s reaction was anything to go by. He thinks about lying, but Sam knows the truth. If Dean doesn’t tell Castiel, Sam might. Dean sighs, taking off his jacket and tossing it on his bed.

He rolls up his sleeve, holding his arm out to show Castiel. The air in the room changes abruptly, and one of the lights breaks. Dean expects Castiel to start yelling, with the way his body has tensed, but his voice comes out cold.

“What have you _done_ , Dean?” Castiel hisses, grabbing Dean’s arm. Dean winces, but doesn’t pull his arm away.

“Yeah, so...I made a new friend the other day,” Dean mutters.

“ _Cain_ ,” Castiel growls. Dean nods.

“Did you know he became a demon to save his brother?” Dean asks. Castiel locks eyes with Dean, glaring.

“I know what Cain did, I know why he has this mark. Why he _had_ this mark. It is not his sacrifice for his brother that I have a problem with. It is the thousands of people he slaughtered in the time after that.”

“What can I say, Cas? He said we were kindred spirits, and he was right,” Dean says sadly. Castiel shakes his head.

“No, he caused untold suffering to thousands, you are better than him,” Castiel argues, sounding so sure of himself. Dean pulls his arm away at that.

“No, I’m not better! I just didn’t get a chance to inflict as much damage as he did before you pulled me out!” Dean yells. “That could have been me some day, after I’d defiled my fill of souls in Hell, after I’d become twisted into black smoke and crawled my way out. That could have been me.” Castiel just shakes his head.

“ _No_ , it’s not the same. Your soul was righteous. It _is_ righteous. Cain may have loved his brother but he was never what you are. He wasn’t tortured until he broke. He wasn’t twisted the way other souls were twisted. He didn’t…you’re _not_ the same, Dean,” Castiel says emphatically. Dean has no idea why Castiel is being so adamant about this. “Why do you have his mark, Dean?”

“We made a deal, of sorts. I needed his weapon so I can kill Abaddon, and I have to have this mark to use it,” Dean says, glad for the slight change in subject.

“And where is the weapon?”

“Crowley’s looking for it,” and Dean instantly regrets his words because Castiel looks pissed again. “Hey. You can still cut out his heart or whatever when he betrays us, okay? Just wait until he gets me the damn weapon.”

“This mark will have… an effect on you,” Castiel says gravely.

“I don’t suppose you can tell me _what_ effect it will have on me, I didn’t have time to get the instruction manual from Cain.”

“No, I’m afraid I don’t know the specifics, although I’m sure an archangel could tell you. If they weren’t all gone,” Castiel says, sounding bland. Dean gets this uncomfortable feeling that Castiel knows exactly what the mark will mean for him, and doesn’t want to say. He decides to let it drop. He doesn’t want to know until he has to, and he’s fairly certain Castiel would tell him if it was something that made him dangerous to others.

“So, are you done glaring at me? Because I’m kind of tired. Werewolf hunting and awkward car rides with Sam really take it out of me,” Dean says, sitting on his bed. He looks up at Castiel, who is staring at the mark with an odd expression. “Cas? Come on, it’s not like this is the first mark left on me by a supernatural entity,” Dean says, throwing Castiel a grin.

“My mark is gone, is it not?” Castiel asks, frowning.

“Yeah, guess you healed me too many times or something. It was just gone one day, don’t even remember when.”

“That is… unfortunate,” Castiel says. Dean raises an eyebrow.

“Why?” Dean feels his heart flutter again when Castiel sits next to him.

“I’ve been doing great deal of introspection in the past few days. Particularly while Sam was gone.”

“Okay? How did that go?”

“I’m getting to that,” Castiel grumbles. “You’re going to find this distasteful, but for a long time I felt a great deal of satisfaction knowing that I’d left a brand on your shoulder. It was a symbol of my triumph over Hell. At first. But as I grew,” Castiel pauses, seemingly searching for the right word, “as I grew attached to you, the mark began to mean something different to me. Just knowing it was there, even though I couldn’t see it, was an odd source of comfort to me.”

“That’s… _odd_ , but I wouldn’t say distasteful?” Dean says, unsure. Castiel is staring at his shoes as though they’re particularly fascinating. There must be more.

“I started to think of you as mine, since it was my brand you wore. I’ve suspected that it was gone for a long time, now. But without confirmation, I could continue thinking as I did. But now I know it’s gone, and you wear another’s mark instead. I’m unhappy with that,” Castiel finishes. He looks uncomfortable, and Dean knows that if Castiel could still fly he’d be gone right about now.

Dean feels breathless at Castiel’s confession. He doesn’t know what he was expecting to hear, maybe something about Dean being an abomination of some sort. He definitely wasn’t expecting to hear that Castiel considered Dean _his_. What’s the right response here? He racks his mind, trying to think of a suitable joking reply to make, and then stops as he opens his mouth. Castiel has made himself vulnerable, here.  Dean can try to be honest too.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Dean says slowly, “this doesn’t mean the same thing. This is a means to an end. The handprint...that came from you rescuing me from Hell. This is so I can wield a weapon. What you and I have,” Jesus, Dean’s really saying this out loud, isn’t he, “still matters. Cain’s mark doesn’t mean I’m his. Hell, a thousand other angels could leave their mark on me and they still wouldn’t mean what you mean to me.” Dean feels like he might throw up. That was far more than he meant to say.

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel says, and then he’s turning, pushing Dean onto his back. He stares up in surprise while Castiel covers him with his body. “Tell me I’m not misinterpreting this,” Castiel begs. Dean swallows nervously. He could say yes, Castiel is misinterpreting Dean’s words. Nothing has to change, Dean doesn’t have to put anything on the line. He can pretend this didn’t happen.

Instead, he reaches forward, pulling Castiel down into a kiss. Castiel responds immediately, opening his mouth to Dean’s tongue, groaning with a surprising amount of desperation. For a moment, Dean wonders where Castiel learned to kiss like this, and then he remembers that the angel has had a number of experiences by now. The way he’s nipping at Dean’s bottom lip, the way his tongue rubs against Dean’s, those could be things he learned from the women he’s been with. It gives Dean a bit of a jealous ache, and he finds himself shoving Castiel’s coat off, suddenly needing to see more of him

Castiel breaks their kiss, pulling his coat off and flinging it across the the room so hard it knocks over several items on a far shelf. Dean chuckles, grinning up at Castiel.

“Eager, aren’t you?” Dean teases.

“Yes,” Castiel growls. He actually tears Dean’s shirts off, and goes back to licking his way into Dean’s mouth. Dean would be offended about the ruined clothes if the display hadn’t made his dick go from zero to sixty in about three seconds. It’s been a long time since Dean was last with a man, a decade— give or take forty years in Hell. The feeling of an erection pressed against his own sends a nervous thrill through him, and it’s _Castiel’s_ erection. Castiel, who's hard because of _Dean_.

“Fuck,” Dean moans. Castiel moves away from Dean’s mouth, their stubble rasping together pleasantly as the angel noses his way to Dean’s jaw.

“I find,” Castiel mutters, “that I’m still jealous of the mark, despite your assurances.”

Dean can guess what Castiel’s getting at, and he tilts his head to emphasize his neck and make his willingness clear. Castiel shudders and sighs, kissing his way down Dean’s neck. Dean shivers with anticipation as Castiel runs a hand down Dean’s side. Dean never realized how warm Castiel is. He supposes that’s the grace, coursing through him, heating him up. It’s a little overwhelming, but not unpleasant. It gives Dean a nice, cozy feeling.

He cries out when he feels Castiel bite down at the space between his neck and right shoulder, hips jerking up. It hurts, but he likes it. He moves a hand to the back of Castiel’s head, holding him in place. Castiel makes a feral sound, biting down a little harder and sucking at the skin. Castiel disengages his teeth after a long moment, licking the bite and nuzzling against Dean.

“I have coveted you. For a long time, I have coveted you,” Castiel murmurs into Dean’s skin, licking a trail of fire down to his collarbone. Dean can feel himself flush at the admission. In some ways this feels like it’s coming out of nowhere, but it’s not. It’s always been there, simmering under the surface in motel rooms, alleyways, even in Purgatory. Castiel’s fingers hook into the belt loops of Dean’s jeans and he guides their hips together, again and again.

“You waited a long time to say something, Cas,” Dean says, brushing their lips together. Castiel’s fingers move to Dean’s waist, rubbing the skin there with his thumbs.

“I suppose I was...shy, for lack of a better word. Shy, and confused. Certain urges I understood much better once I experienced them as a human man. I am curious to find out if climaxing will feel the same now that I am no longer human,” Castiel says. Dean shudders.

“Fuck, we should find out,” Dean moans. He and Castiel tussle, pulling shoes and socks off of each other, working together to get Castiel out of his suit jacket and shirt. Dean pauses to grind their hips together, just to feel Castiel’s erection rubbing against his through the layers of fabric.

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel says, voice little more than a breathy whimper before he growls and and rips Dean’s jeans open so hard the zipper breaks and the fabric at the crotch tears. Dean looks down at his ruined pants in surprise, then at Castiel. He raises an eyebrow.

“You owe me some new clothes, Cas,” Dean says with a lazy grin. Castiel finishes pulling Dean’s pants off, throwing them on the floor.

“My apologies,” Castiel says, tugging at Dean’s boxers. Dean helps pull them off in the hope that some of his clothes will make it out of this encounter intact. Castiel wriggles out of his own slacks, then his boxers, and then it’s miles of naked skin pressed together, making Dean’s heart beat wildly.

Dean can’t remember the last time he wanted someone _this_ much. He aches, enjoyably so, wanting this so much and knowing he _can_ have it, that Castiel wants him back. They’ve seen all the ugly, twisted, broken bits inside of each other, and they both still want this.

Castiel makes a path of kisses, starting at Dean’s neck, making his way down. He pauses at Dean’s nipples, taking a moment to tug at one with his teeth, rubbing his tongue over the nub. Dean normally prides himself of his attentiveness as a lover, but he’s so drunk on the fact that it’s _Cas_ doing this to him, he can’t seem to do more than tangle his fingers in the angel’s soft hair and make pitiful noises while Castiel sucks bruises into his hip. Castiel licks his way to Dean’s cock, holding it in one hand and running his tongue gently against the head.

“Shit, Cas, I want you so fucking much,” Dean groans, a little embarrassed.

“I have wanted you to be mine, Dean. For a long time. Tell me I can have you,” Castiel says quietly, and Dean can’t tell if it’s a plea or an order, but he knows his answer either way.

“Yeah, Cas. You can have me,” he says. He grabs Castiel and pulls him back up and into a kiss, breaking away to bite down on the angel’s neck, to see if it leaves a mark. Castiel moans almost hysterically, thrusting his dick against Dean’s.

“D-Dean, harder,” Castiel says, sighing happily when Dean bites down harder. He pulls back to look, and is pleased to see that the skin is reddened, and he can see the indents of his teeth. He feels a possessive thrill run through him at the sight, already understanding Castiel’s obsession with marking a little better. Dean can’t take much more of this, though. His dick is aching, and there’s a palpable electricity in the air that he thinks might be coming from Castiel himself.

Dean licks his hand, getting it wet and slippery and maybe a little gross before working it between the two of them, drawing their dicks together tight and giving a few test pumps that have Castiel making a broken noise into Dean’s neck. Castiel locks lips with Dean, panting into his mouth, clawing at the bed. Dean’s hand gathers precome from both of them as he strokes them together, the slickness of his hand and the heat radiating from Castiel making his head spin. He breaks the kiss, staring into Castiel’s wide, stunned eyes.

“Does it still feel good, Cas? Like when you were human?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You don’t make noises like Castiel is making if you aren’t having a good time. Castiel nods frantically, moving a hand down to join Dean’s.

“Yes, yes it feels very good. You feel good, Dean,” Castiel pants, fucking into their combined fist. Dean’s feels light headed with how close he is, he just needs a little something to push him over the edge. He closes his eyes, tipping his head back, baring his throat.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ come, Cas. Because of you, because of what you do to me,” Dean mumbles. Castiel whimpers and bites Dean again, teeth digging into the same spot as that first bite on his neck. The pain is absolutely exquisite, and Dean is right there, right fucking there— 

“Jesus fucking _Christ_ , Dean,” Castiel growls, and Dean is so startled by the words coming out of the angel’s mouth that he trips headfirst into his orgasm, shouting all manner of ecstatic profanities at the ceiling. Castiel comes right after, and while he doesn’t scream anything, he does whimper, curling in on them both while all the remaining lights in the room shatter.

“Holy shit,” Dean says, voice gone a bit raspy. The room is dark except for some trace amounts of light seeping in under the closed door. “Can you see in the dark?”

“Yes,” Castiel croaks. He’s panting into Dean’s ear in a way that makes Dean shudder with aftershocks from his orgasm. For a being that doesn’t need to breathe, the angel sure is breathing heavily.

“Is there glass on my bed?” Dean asks. He can feel Castiel shake his head no in response, so he gives Castiel a small shove. “Come on, let’s get under the blankets.” Castiel complies, and the two quickly shift their way up the bed and under the covers.

Once they’re laying on their sides, Castiel wraps himself around Dean. Dean wrinkles his nose slightly at the feel of the come smeared all over their lower abdomens. He briefly considers cleaning them up, maybe showering, then decides that can be a problem for later.

“Do you sleep, Cas?” Dean asks. Castiel holds Dean tight, tucking his head under Dean’s chin. Dean inhales Castiel’s scent. He smells like rainwater and come.

“No, not really,” Castiel answers. He sounds sleepy in Dean’s opinion.

“Well then, I guess you’re just going to have to lay there and watch me snooze for the next few hours,” Dean says, yawning.

“I accept this burden,” Castiel says gravely, but Dean’s pretty sure the angel is smiling. He grins, snuggling closer to Castiel.

“Don’t even think about telling anyone that I like to cuddle, Cas,” Dean warns playfully.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Castiel says. Dean nods and relaxes, dozing to the feel of Castiel’s hands mapping the skin of his back, the bites on his body tingling pleasantly.

 


End file.
